


Unspoken

by nauticalSorcerer



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alpha Sylvain Jose Gautier, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Breeding, Dubious Consent, M/M, Mating Bites, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Felix Hugo Fraldarius, POV Sylvain Jose Gautier, Pining, Porn with Feelings, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:00:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22297468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nauticalSorcerer/pseuds/nauticalSorcerer
Summary: He’d told Ingrid he wouldn’t touch him--he’d told HIMSELF he wouldn’t touch him. He didn’t want to, not like this. He wanted Felix to want him. Want him because HE wanted him, not because his body did.This wasn’t how it should have been. He was supposed to have swept Felix off his feet. It was supposed to be sweet and emotional and he was supposed to know how he felt—how he REALLY felt.But he couldn’t stop himself. It was like he was a prisoner in his own body.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 9
Kudos: 381





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> If you have suggestions for tags, let me know.  
> No beta reader so sorry for any mistakes.

Shouting, screaming, metal on metal—the sounds were winding down, replaced by shouts of triumph. From atop his mount he scanned the crowd, looking for specific individuals. Counting heads, making sure each of them were accounted for. In the chaos of battle he always lost them, everything became a blur. And here, it was only worse, the thick clouds ahead still spraying them with sprinkling water and saturating the muddy ground. But war waited for no one, and battle did not stop even for a storm. Brows knitted together—one was missing... another sweep, his chest tightening painfully in fear—but then he spotted the straggler. Dark hair, muddied clothes, he had blended into the distance. Sylvain exhaled the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, only to suck it back in again.

Something was wrong. He could see it from here, the other’s stance was wrong. He was struggling to stay upright. Bodies littered the ground nearby, sword glinting with the distant flash of lightning. Kicking his heels into his horse’s sides, Sylvain tore across the battlefield, kicking up mud onto dirty soldiers as he passed. A few cursed at him, but he didn’t care. It wasn’t the first time he had been. His mare struggled to slow in the muck, but he didn’t seem to care at all as he flung himself off and to the ground with an ease that probably would have impressed someone if he were trying—but he wasn’t thinking about that. All he could focus on now was Felix, who had collapsed to the ground before he had even made it halfway to him. “Felix!” Sylvain hoisted him out of the grime, pulling his upper body up into his lap. He’s covered in blood, the smell of mud, dirt, and rain mixes so thoroughly with that of blood and death that he can barely separate them all, assailing his senses. “Shit, Felix.” He tries to use his eyes instead, patting him down, swiping mud off of him in an attempt to find the wound that had struck him down.

Felix looked like he was on the edge of consciousness, his customary scowl only half-there. He felt his instinct kick in, the innate need to protect shifting into overdrive. Something was wrong, but he couldn’t find what. “Shit,” he repeated under his breath, pulling him up a little more. “Shit, Felix—where is it?” Was it on his back? Before he could turn him over, Felix smacked his roving hand. It’s not half as powerful as usual. “I’m not hurt.” Sylvain stared at him, not believing, but then, beneath the mud smeared on his face, he could see a red flush on his skin. Fever? Had he been suffering sickness and not told anyone? He pulled his gauntlet off hastily, touching his wrist to his skin. Felix was burning up, but he didn’t miss how his long-time friend angled his head into his touch, letting out a little huff of breath into the chilled air.

Realization struck him like a brick to the face. He gently swiped away some of the mud that had become smeared to the other man’s pale skin. Felix groused unintelligibly and grabbed his moving hand, pressing his face against his wrist and breathing deeply against the scent glands buried there in his skin. That meant... Could only mean... “Felix...” This was bad. The rain and mud had been masking his scent, but it would only get more powerful from here. Already he was picking up on it, the crisp scent of pine he had always associated with Felix filtering through. He had to get him somewhere safe, somewhere away from here. Although his scent stirred something primal in him, Sylvain crushed it down. He fumbled with one of his bags at his waist, ignoring the piteous whine that came from Felix in his lap as he took his hand back from him to do so. He needed... there. Unrolling a carefully-packed swatch of leather, he shoved a few of the bitter roots into his mouth and bit down, flinching visibly at the taste. It really wasn’t recommended for an alpha to chew them, considering it only delayed a reaction but any soldier who valued their life kept some on hand. It was an underhanded and technically outlawed tactic to use an omega heat in battle to distract any alpha soldiers, but the head-clearing herb was still rationed out just in case. He trusted himself not to do anything, but he didn’t trust that he might not retaliate against another Alpha should they come close to him.

Speak of the devil, Sylvain’s head jerked to the side as he caught movement there, Dimitri’s form coming into view, flanked by Dedue. “Sylvain! What—“ The redhead tightened his arms on Felix, who apparently had enough in him to glare at Dimitri and mutter something about ‘the boar’, but Sylvain himself was more focused on Dimitri. “Back off,” he barked at him, lips curled up in a snarl and flashing his canines. He watched the prince actually flinch back slightly in surprise, ignoring the rush of pride he felt at having caused the stronger alpha to pause. He hadn’t only challenged him, but threatened. He was protecting Felix.

Not waiting for him to recover, or to speak again as the prince scented the air and clearly picked up the Omega pheromones, he hoisted Felix up into his arms. His friend again mumbled, squirming and then settling into the cool metal of his breastplate. It had to feel good against his feverish skin, he imagined. Turning toward his horse, he nearly ran straight into Ingrid, whose expression went from alarm and worry... to anger. When she made as if to grab Felix from him, he turned away from her. “I’ve got him,” Sylvain told her curtly, his tone more clipped than he intended.

“Sylvain—“ she warned, and he wheeled around to give her a glare that could easily have rivaled one of those from the man in his arms. “I said I’ve got him.”

She didn’t back down, but he merely pushed by her, holding to Felix like letting go might kill him. Nothing shy of death was going to get him to. He spared a wary glance down, worrying that the scuffle was jarring him too much. The man himself was holding his abandoned gauntlet to his neck, probably soothing the swollen glands there as best he could manage. Felix was his friend, they’d known each other for... the longest time. Since they were kids. To be in a state like this... to be seen like this... Felix, for sure, wouldn’t want it. Sylvain wasn’t going to let anyone else see him if he could help it.

And he wasn’t going to let anyone else handle him, either. He had the best chance of keeping anyone else at bay, frankly. They may not have trusted him as an Alpha, but they needed to trust him as their friend. Even if everyone thought he was some horrible, skirt-chasing lecher, he would never force someone, especially when they weren’t in their right mind. As much as the stirring in his chest was aching for him, his desire to protect him was stronger. 

Gently, he hoisted him up onto his horse, helping Felix to slide his leg over the saddle. Lucky for the rain having soaked him to the bone, because he got a full whiff of him just hoisting him up. His pants were soaked with slick. “I’m not letting him out of my sight until he’s somewhere safe,” he told Ingrid as she stepped up beside him. He didn’t even spare her a glance, his whole focus on the Omega rapidly succumbing to his heat. “Follow me from above if you have to, but I’m not leaving him to you.” He trusted her, he really did. He should have let her take him, knew that flying would be faster than trekking through mud. But he needed to be the one to do this. He was being selfish with it, that he knew. It was better to give him off to another Omega. But... as much as he knew he should, he refused. An alpha’s scent would soothe him until he was safe, and someone who was familiar would be best. Sylvain didn’t trust Dimitri the same way he used to, even if he was a friend—and from how Felix had been acting thus far,  _ he  _ didn’t either.

He just had to keep his personal feelings in check. He wasn’t protecting him because he had wanted him as his mate since he was a teen. It was because it was his duty to protect him, as his friend and as an alpha.

Sylvain hoisted himself into the saddle behind Felix, fitting one arm around him to keep him from falling as he took the reins with his other. Felix slumped back into him, head falling limp as if it were too much of a struggle to keep upright. “I’m taking him back to the monastery,” he shouted over the rain as it started to pick up again, thanking the saints that it had. It would keep Felix’s scent from traveling, though would do little for him with him sitting in front like this. Disregarding anything but the nod from Dimitri, he kicked his heels into his mount again and started her forward. The grime sucked loudly at her hooves for the first few paces, but she managed to free herself and break into a gallop. He’d have to give her some serious carrots for this.

As he charged across the field back toward the way they had come, he kept a wary eye on Felix. He was still holding his gauntlet, but his eyes were barely open. Anytime he caught Sylvain glancing at him, he hardened his bleary-eyed look into a petulant glare, though they seemed to be getting farther apart. His scent was growing stronger still, and Sylvain ground his teeth into the root still tucked in his mouth. Another burst of the foul flavor graced his tongue, nearly prompting him to gag. If he wasn’t careful, Felix would trigger his rut before he even got back to the monastery. While he didn’t fear what he might do to Felix should that be the case, he was worried about others.

Above him, he could spot Ingrid’s pegasus soaring in the sky. It seemed she didn’t trust him either. He would be lying if he said he was surprised. None of them would trust him to keep his hands to himself with an Omega in heat. He was just a skirt-chaser. A lecher. He’d take advantage of Felix’s state for his own pleasure. Sylvain glowered to himself as he leaned forward a little, ducking them under a low-hanging branch. He could see the monastery in the distance. “We’re almost there, just hold on a little longer, Felix,” he spoke soothingly to him, grinding his teeth again at the whine that his friend released. It made the hair on the back of his neck prickle, the plaintive sound of suffering causing him to tighten his arm reflexively. “I know,” Sylvain murmured, and felt him lean back into him more, his breath picking up. He was almost in the full throes of it, he was sure, his scent was getting so powerful now he would be drawing the attention of every nearby alpha if not for Sylvain’s presence.

It seemed like an eternity before they reached the dorms, and Sylvain practically threw the reins at a stable hand. Felix didn’t even struggle when he hoisted him up again, supporting his back with one arm and beneath his knees with the other, just curled into his chest and pressed his face into his armor, breathing hard. 

Ingrid was beside him seconds later, warily watching her friends. 

Moreso, warily watching Sylvain as he delicately carried Felix in a near-jog toward the dorms. 

“Ingrid, get blankets and towels for him, and as many pillows as you can find,” he found himself ordering, as he took the stairs up two at a time. He felt her glare into the back of his head, but he ignored her, his face void of his usual humour. As they reached Felix’s room near the end of the hall, she grabbed his arm. Before she could open her mouth, he wheeled around to face her, still holding Felix—who had started to squirm again. “Look, I know you don’t trust me. I haven’t really given any of you a reason to think that I’m not going to jump on him the second you leave us alone.” He watched her lips thin into a line. “But you need to trust me. I’m not going to touch him.” As much as he wanted to. As much as his heart ached to.

Ingrid continued to glare at him, studying his face as if she could see truth or lie written plainly there. Finally, she sighed. “Fine.” She drew herself up to her full height and pushed her index finger into his chest. “But if you so much as breathe on him wrong and I  _ will castrate  _ you.” She turned and stalked down the hall to retrieve clean linens, and Sylvain waited a moment before pulling the door to Felix’s room open. He breathed a soft sigh, the familiarity yet alien nature of a room not his own briefly nostalgic. He hadn’t gotten to spend a lot of time here when they’d been in school, Felix made a habit of mostly being here only to sleep. Even so, the rooms were all built the same. He tried to track as little mud as possible through the room as he brought the man into the joined bath.

Carefully, he set Felix down feet-first, offering his support to him when he wobbled and only giving a soft laugh when he muttered about not needing help. Still stubborn, even when he could barely stand. Sylvain managed to start the water before Felix began to shoo him off, and he stepped back with his hands raised in surrender. “I can do it myself,” Felix snarled, clearly riding a wave of clarity, though he barely made it two steps before he stumbled, and Sylvain was there to catch him before he could fall and crack his head on the tub. “Look, let’s get you into the bath and then I’ll leave you alone.” He felt Felix shudder as he breathed in, the body in his arms strung tight like a bow. Another wave of his scent flooded the air, and Sylvain kept his own breathing steady.

Wordless and still fully clad in armour, he helped Felix stand as he divested himself of his filth-soaked clothing, politely finding the far wall incredibly fascinating despite the desire to look at him. He wanted to, but he knew Felix valued his privacy... as much as a soldier could at least. “I’m getting in now.” He felt more weight against his arm and tended his muscles, giving as much support as he could. The water sloshed in the bath, and he heard Felix shudder again, but he released his arm. Sylvain turned on his heel to face the doorway. “Get out. And stop tracking mud everywhere.”

The redhead couldn’t help the small smile. “Pretty sure doing both of those is impossible.” He but back the offer to join him—knowing it would be what he wanted right now. “I’ll bring you towels when I get back.”

“...Fine.”

Sylvain stepped into the hallway, closing the door behind him. To the right of the door was a growing pile of linens. Ingrid stopped to look at him as she held another set in her arms. She scowled, but dropped her current load onto the pile. Then she straightened, brushing her hands off. It seemed she had changed out of her wet clothes, but her hair was still damp from the rain. “How is he?”

He shrugged. “Miserable. I got him to the bath to get him cleaned up. He didn’t want my help and I’m not going to force him. He’ll be fine until he needs to get out.” A look of sympathy flashed across her face. “I’m going to get changed while he does that. Keep an eye on the door for me.” Ingrid gave a nod, surprisingly complacent despite her earlier distrust of him. Maybe he had accidentally used his influence as an alpha without realizing it...? Or maybe she actually saw that he wasn’t just thinking with his dick about this. He braved a weary sigh as he pulled at the fastenings to his armour, striding with purpose to his room just on the other side of Dimitri’s. He was glad he closed the door before he left, because just catching a whiff as he passed was enough to have his skin prickling with territorial irritation.

Sylvain’s pace became brisk and he nearly slammed his door closed. Leaning against it, he threw his gauntlet and bracers aside, sliding his hands through his hair. “Shit...” 

He had to hold it in. He couldn’t let his rut start while Felix was suffering his heat... but there wasn’t a whole lot to do to stop it. Fighting it only worked so well when it was outside of the usual schedule, and being around him would make it worse. There was no way either of them would be able to resist each other. Felix, not in his right mind, would be drawn to it like a moth to flame, and Sylvain...

And Sylvain knew he wouldn’t be able to resist him either. Felix called to him like a siren on the best of days. His heat was even  _ more  _ irresistible. He couldn’t fathom the number of times he had let his fantasies run wild. Let himself imagine just what it might be like...

Roughly shaking his head again, he stopped his train of thought there. If he started thinking that now, he would lose it. He was already feeling the interested stir between his legs, and cursed to himself as he began to shuck off the rest of his armour. He took the time to arrange it nicely—it would need to be cleaned before he wore it next, but he was finding himself in need of an ice cold shower before anything else. His clothes followed, tossed over his chair, and he stumbled into the bath, washing the sweat and filth of battle from his body. The icy cold was... not as helpful as he would have liked, but definitely served to stave off the warmth that had started to try spreading through him. Instead of creeping along his arms and legs and making his head feel foggy, it retreated back to his gut, coiling like a snake retreating to its den. 

He knew it was only a matter of time before it struck again.

As long as there was a door between himself and Felix, it would be fine.

Drying, he pulled on fresh clothing, hesitated and grabbed the garments he’d been wearing at the battle, folding them and tucking them under his arm. As he passed Dimitri’s room, he begrudgingly went inside and took one of his shirts. Might as well give him options... 

Ingrid merely waited with her arms folded, and handed Sylvain a clean towel before he disappeared behind Felix’s door again. The pile of bedding had gone, and he noted that it had been placed neatly beside the bed, within easy reach. Good, he could make himself comfortable if he needed more. He set the scent-laden garments on the desk, and headed toward the bathroom. 

Lightly knocking on the frame to let him know he was there, he lowered his gaze as he entered. “I’m back, let’s get you to bed. To—your bed, so you can get comfortable.” For once, he wasn’t trying to joke with him, knowing that even a playful word could be taken the wrong way here. “Ingrid brought some extra bedding, too.” Sylvain could feel the other man’s eyes boring holes into him, and subtly gnawed the inside of his cheek. The room smelled of heat, his uncovered neck glands probably swollen and bordering on painful.  _ Don’t focus on it _ , he told himself sternly, instead unfolding the towel and listening to the subtle slosh of water from the other moving. He could pick up on barely-stifled noises already, pretending he couldn’t and didn’t, trying to preserve whatever sense of dignity that Felix may have had remaining.

“Come on,” he coaxed gently, stepping a little closer and making a slight gesture with the towel. Felix made a soft noise, and Sylvain switched to chewing on his tongue to keep himself focused on something else. Finally, he heard the water slowly beginning to drain, and remained standing plainly beside the tub, pretending to find the floor tiles far more interesting than the object of his hidden affection.

“...Are you just going to stand there?” Felix snapped, and Sylvain’s eyes flickered up tentatively, finding him glaring at him again. His face was red and his hair was damp, but it seemed the water was drained. Opting not to invade his space, he tossed him the towel to wrap around himself, looking away politely until he heard the fabric stop rustling. Felix was glaring at his knees when he turned back. His body was trembling. A pang of sympathy passed through him.    
  
Moving to his side, Sylvain wordlessly knelt and picked the smaller man’s frame from the porcelain bath, careful to keep the towel between them so he didn’t touch his skin directly. He didn’t speak a word when Felix leaned into him, but bit down hard on his cheek when feeling him nuzzle into his chest. It was something he would never have done had he been in his right mind, nor would he allow Sylvain to touch him--let alone to  _ carry  _ him.

He didn’t so much as make a sound as he was moved from the bath and gently deposited on the bed, though Sylvain could hear him breathing deeply, feel him trembling in his arms. As he attempted to settle him on the blankets, he felt Felix tense slightly. He forced himself not to hesitate, his instinct urging him to try and soothe his friend—in some ways far less than innocently. Clearing his throat, he straightened and turned his back to Felix, moving around his room to the dresser and trying to find something for him to wear. It was probably pointless, since he would just end up taking it off in minutes as his heat caused him to swelter—but it gave him something to do.

“...irt.”

Sylvain tensed as he stared at the drawer he had opened, fingers inches from a set of nightclothes that he wasn’t even sure might fit him. “What was that?” He asked, knowing but having to hear it again just because he was trying to convince himself it was just his imagination.

“Your shirt, you idiot.”

How he could have bite to him now, Sylvain didn’t question, just turned to look at him again. Felix was wrapped in the towel, though only from the waist down at this point, and glaring at him like he wasn’t sure whether he hated him or not. “My shirt? What about it? It’s a little wet, I know. I’ll go change—“

“Give it.” Felix held out his hand expectantly. “Now.”

He blinked dumbly. Felix continued to glare at him. After a beat, he slowly began to fumble with the buttons on his shirt, pulling them open and then finally stripping the garment off. The other’s hand was still outstretched, and he was getting the distinct feeling of impatience from him until he deposited his shirt in his grip. Immediately, Felix snatched his hand back to his own space, pulling Sylvain’s shirt on and pointedly avoiding his gaze as he did so. Sylvain himself found it difficult to pull his eyes off, a mix of instinct and personal feelings swirling in his gut just seeing Felix wrapping himself in his scent. The shirt was too big, sleeves extending past his wrists and the length of it rumpling at his waist still concealed by the towel.

He shook his head hard to force himself to peel his eyes away. “Right. Here, I brought some other things for you if you want them.” Uprooting his feet with immense effort, the redhead crossed to the desk and the clothes he had deposited there, picking them up. Picking up on Dimitri’s scent, faint as it was, had his hackles raising in unusual disgust he knew was only a result of his barely-suppressed rut. Regardless, he turned back to Felix and offered them out to him.

Felix looked at the offered clothing for a moment, and Sylvain watched him lean a little as if to better determine their purpose. To his surprise, he recoiled, a look of disdain on his face. “I’ll take the  _ one _ , but get that other filthy thing away from me,” he spat.

Sylvain gritted his teeth a little as he pulled them apart, offering Dimitri’s clean shirt over. Felix’s immediate reaction was to look at him as if he’d completely lost his mind. “I  _ said _ ,” he repeated,  _ growled _ , “get that disgusting thing away from me. I don’t want that  _ boar’s  _ stench anywhere near me.”

“Oh.” It was all he could manage, and ignored the swell of euphoria as he passed his other garments over to him instead. Pretending his heart wasn’t doing a victory dance and knowing it was only for his own benefit that Felix was accepting the things at all, he cleared his throat and turned toward the door. “I’ll bring you something to eat soon.” Felix’s scent was starting to thicken again, and he was feeling a little lightheaded. There was only so much he could resist, and he needed to... go. 

Pointedly staring at the door as if to make sure he didn’t lose sight of his goal, he strode across the room and stepped outside. Closing it behind him, he leaned back against the barrier.

Ingrid was still out there, arms folded as she looked at him. She raised an eyebrow at his shirtless state. Sylvain gave a sheepish grin, offering Dimitri’s shirt to her. “Here, put this back in His Highness’s room, please. He didn’t want it.” Unspoken was the ‘I might do some damage if I go in there myself.’ He was already riled up, and there was only so much self control he could manage. As Ingrid shook her head, going to do as he had requested, Sylvain sank to the floor outside of Felix’s room. “Could you grab me another one of mine, too?”

This was going to be a long,  _ long _ week.

The first day was by far the easiest. 

His rut didn’t kick into full until partway through the second. 

At that point, he became largely useless as more than a physical barricade. Sylvain stared at the floor between his raised knees, trying his hardest to ignore the pressure of his persistent erection straining at the front of his pants. His nothing but fog, but he would snap to alertness anytime he heard a sound from beyond his stationed point. He could hear Felix on the other side of the door. Whining, moaning. Which did nothing to soothe him even as he tried to block it out. Hard to do when there was nothing else but his own thoughts. And the need gnawing away at him, wanting him to answer his friend’s desperate sounds.

Ingrid came with food and drink at various points during the day. She was the only person that Sylvain didn’t growl at for getting close enough to deliver them, as the only member of their closer-knit group who had been bonded and therefore was considered not to be a threat. For his credit, Sylvain managed to deliver things to Felix without incident, though it became increasingly difficult. Ingrid was occasionally granted audience to check on Felix as well, though she never told Sylvain what it was she spoke with him about and he could never quite hear them through the door. She apparently tried to offer him other articles of clothing as well, from other alphas in the monastery. He declined all of them, which may or may not have caused some degree of preening from Sylvain. It was probably just because Sylvain was in rut; his scent was stronger and thus more appealing than normal. Plu, he was right outside the door, so anytime she would go in or out it would waft his scent in with her.

Sylvain rested his face against the cool wooden door, staring at the space that would open when Ingrid finally exited. He could smell Felix through it, if only faintly. There were dozens of scent-masking candles arranged outside to try and keep the pair of them contained, but the entire second floor had been sleeping on the first regardless. Apparently it was unnerving to have  _ Sylvain _ of all people glare at them from down the hall every time they tried to go to or leave their room.

It was so difficult to remain still. He was absolutely aching. He wanted nothing more than to go into the room and soothe Felix every time he heard his piteous whines. His rut wanted him to sate them both physically, but his sequestered emotional side wanted to help with his apparent misery. If a heat were anything like a rut, he could only sympathize with him. The constant  _ need _ , constant and insatiable  _ desire _ , constantly being painfully aroused. Wanting nothing more than to breed, like an animal. He closed his eyes, breathing out slowly as he dug his fingers into the fabric of his trousers at his knees, trying to ignore the desire to touch himself. Jerking off would only make it worse.

A soft click of a lock and he jolted to attention, peering up at Ingrid. She frowned down at him. “He wants to see you.” She had said that a few times, usually because he needed help getting to the bath. Somehow, it sounded different to him this time. Maybe it was just because his head had become more and more addled. He gave a crooked grin, slowly pushing up to his feet with a lot more effort than he would have liked to admit to. Blessedly, she ignored the fact that he was at full attention below the belt. It wasn’t something he could do much about. Even if he took care of it, it would be back in minutes. She just rolled her eyes, waiting for him to walk in.

Crossing the threshold into Felix’s room, he closed the door behind him. He didn’t see her leave.

It was a reflex to lock it, one he didn’t even know that he had done. The room itself was warm— _ sweltering _ . Or maybe that was his rut, his whole body heating up. Breathing in, he placed one hand against the wall to steady himself. It was almost enough to knock the wind out of him.

The smell of Felix assaulted his senses, overwhelming; crisp pine and wild, like he’d suddenly walked into an evergreen forest. He felt it pool in his gut like a brick weight, his body responding in kind and causing a heady shudder to pulse through him. He knew he was broadcasting just as powerfully. The smell of slick thickened, and he tried to pretend he couldn’t hear the deep, desperate whine that came from his friend only a few paces away. Instead, he focused on the lead that his legs had turned into, slowly making his way from the door to the desk. He was afraid to get much closer than that.

This was the first time he’d let himself look at Felix, though. His hair was disheveled, an absolute mess, and Sylvain’s shirt hanging loosely from his form. He was wearing one of the others that he’d been given, but he could spot the first one strewn amongst the bedding. Apparently he’d been attempting to make himself comfortable; but such a task was impossible. “Felix,” he spoke softly, trying not to be bothered by how his own voice had dropped an octave. Or the visible shudder that went through the brunet in response. “Ingrid said—“

“ _ Shut up _ .” Felix’s voice made him start. It was still so harsh despite the breathy way he had spoken. “Idiot.” A soft huff. “You’re... such a pain.” He shifted himself, and Sylvain found himself transfixed as he ground himself down against the fabric bunched between his legs. It was one of his shirts, he noted distantly. The fabric rumpled, wrinkled but arranged to ride up into his grinding. He wasn’t sure whether it was the sight or the knowledge that Felix was rubbing his scent all over his most intimate parts that had his body becoming a veritable inferno. He was pretty sure that he didn’t have any blood left anywhere but his dick at this point.

“Just…  _ sitting there _ ,” Felix continued, “doing  _ nothing _ ...  _ Flames _ .” He slumped forward, one arm buried beneath him as he clutched at the blankets with the other, wrenching them as he shuddered. “ _ Hn _ —! I hate you, Sylvain. You—your fucking  _ rut  _ makes me so...” He buried his face into the blankets, muffling his piteous whine. Sylvain trembled as he watched, itching to touch him, to touch  _ himself _ . “Lecherous—“ Felix shuddered again, and the smell of him grew stronger, wet sound of flesh moving against slick as he became even less able to control himself now that Sylvain was in the room. The only thing keeping the man himself in place was shock. 

...Which was very quickly wearing off.

Then, his body moved. 

He felt like he was no longer in control as he closed the distance between himself and Felix. 

One knee settled on the mattress beside him, and Felix froze for an instant, looking blearily up at him. For a moment, Felix looked like he had been graced by the Goddess Herself, relief replacing the furrow of his brows before he buried his face instead, refusing to look at him. 

Sylvain’s hand settled on lower back. His skin was burning up. His heart in his throat and his body moving without his permission, he sank his hand lower, pulling Felix’s away and replacing it with his own. He smoothed one digit over his entrance, soaking with slick and radiating warmth. Felix twitched visibly, pushing against him and whining. Sylvain brought his other knee up, sliding himself closer to Felix, clothed thigh brushing against the other’s bare skin as he teased him. It sent a heady spark up his body, skin prickling.

Lips touched his shoulder and he breathed in his scent as his free hand slipped beneath the fabric of the borrowed shirt. Slowly twirling his fingers around one nipple, he delved his middle digit into Felix—with deliberate, agonizing slowness. 

The man below him immediately bowed outward, letting out a choked noise and pressing back against his hand, the intrusion that finally wasn’t one of his own. 

It sounded so much like a sob it made his chest clench. 

“Shh,” he soothed gently, feeling electric run up his arm from where he buried his digit inside him. Felix was burning hot and tight, walls clenching and twitching around him like he was trying to pull him in.  _ Goddess _ , he could only imagine how it would feel around his aching cock. 

At the same time, he felt sick. 

He’d told Ingrid he wouldn’t touch him, he’d told  _ himself  _ he wouldn’t touch him. He didn’t want to, not like this. He wanted Felix to  _ want  _ him. Want him because  _ he _ wanted him, not because his  _ body _ did.

But he couldn’t stop himself, it was like he was a prisoner in his own body. 

He slowly thrust his finger in and out of his warmth, the lewd sound intermittently broken by moans and whines from Felix, and he thrust eagerly back against Sylvain, face still buried in the sheets and refusing to look at him. He pulled back to add a second finger, finding it a bit of a challenge with his thicker digits. Felix didn’t seem to mind, but he nuzzled his shoulder regardless as he felt him tensing slightly. “You’re doing so good, Felix,” he murmured into the fabric covering his shoulder. “Just relax for me...” The words fell automatically from his lips. Sylvain knew this wouldn’t soothe him, not nearly enough. What he needed was... what they both needed.

What Sylvain, for once, didn’t want to give. But he couldn’t stop. His whole body ached, and his head was nothing but mush. He could only smell Felix, only  _ feel  _ Felix. His heart wanted to make love--but his body wanted to  _ breed _ . 

He delicately began to scissor his fingers, spreading him open more, urging his body to open up for him. As he thrust in again, Felix suddenly let out a choked noise and his whole form tensed. Slick gushed out around Sylvain’s fingers, walls spasming around them. Despite the difficulty and his own surprise, he started to thrust his fingers again, and then curled them in steady bouts of pressure against that spot he had found. Felix’s voice didn’t peak again, but his body remained tight, tense, mouth hanging open. Sylvain moved with the other’s body, a shudder rippling down his own at hearing Felix’s voice come to a peak. He coaxed his orgasm along, skillfully extending it as long as he could.

Yet as the younger slowly came down from his high, Felix gradually collapsed. Sylvain withdrew his fingers to instead wrap them around his waist, supporting him. Delicately, he turned him onto his back, helping him stretch his form out on the mattress amidst the mess of blankets and borrowed garments. As an afterthought, Sylvain stole away the soaked shirt he’d been grinding himself against earlier, tossing it to the floor. 

For just a moment, he sat back on his haunches, letting Felix catch his breath and merely taking in the sight of him. His eyes were barely open, unfocused and staring up at the ceiling, face flushed from his cheeks all the way down his neck. The borrowed shirt hid far more of his frame than he would have liked, a slight tenting where his persistent erection strained against the fabric.

He startled slightly when Felix jolted, and realized he had settled his hand on his thigh and started to rub his fingers into his skin. Again he couldn’t stop himself, watching colour flood to pale skin. He shuffled himself between Felix’s legs, stripping off his own shirt. It was a little stroke to his ego when he caught the other staring, eyes dark with his pupils blown wide. He swiped his tongue over his lips, and his hands rubbed more firmly into those strong thighs. He wants to bite them, to paint dark purple bruises into his skin that will outlast their encounter.

Sylvain wasted no time in yanking the halves of that shirt apart, fully exposing his friend to his hungry stare. Felix was either too aroused or too mortified to try covering himself, and Sylvain was too far gone to his rut to take the time to appreciate the planes of pale skin. Instead, he fumbled with his trousers, shoving them down and giving a sigh of relief as his erection was finally freed.

He wanted to take his time, to lavish Felix with attention. Bring him to completion again and again, find everything that made him cry out with pleasure. Make his idea of sex anything but miserable.

Instead his hands were grasping at his hips, fingers surely leaning bruises with how hard he held him as he tugged him down the bed. Instead, he was rutting himself against his hip as he mouthed at Felix’s neck. His tongue lathed over his scent gland and Felix made a high pitched sound in his throat, nails digging into Sylvain’s back as he suddenly found purchase there. This only made the man himself groan low and suck the patch between his lips. He felt Felix squirm beneath him, and to his surprise, his head turned to the side and he bared the skin to his mouth. 

The alpha had just enough sense left in him to jerk away, instead settling his face into the crook of his neck.

There was no way it was a conscious action. Just Felix reacting to the stimulation to the place he’d be marked by a mate, the place that caused him such misery being stimulated so.

Feeling the omega’s legs on either side of his hips, he reached between them to line himself up with his entrance. There was no warning other than that before abruptly pressing himself in. Felix let out that choked noise again, and this time Sylvain joined him as he urged forward. 

He should have waited, to let him adjust. 

But he’d lost control of himself some time ago. 

Instead of letting Felix adjust, he moved. Instead, he started pulling back and pressing forward. Urging deeper and deeper until the swelling bulk of his knot stopped him. His body was receptive, compliant. Hot, tight, and soaked. He could distantly hear him whine.

Burying his face in Felix’s shoulder, he let his body take over. 

His hands settled on either side of the man below him, keeping his weight from coming down completely, face buried in his neck as if consciously attempting to hide the shame he felt. This wasn’t how he wanted this to go. He wanted Felix to love him, to want him. Sylvain wanted to make love to him. Not this.

He was only hardly aware when the other’s legs hitched up to his hips, holding him. Sylvain was rocking into him hard enough to cause the bedframe to creak. Skin on skin, the scent of Felix all around him. It was maddening, but his heart couldn’t enjoy it. The sounds he was making, he relished them and wanted more, he dug his fingers into bony hips, left more bruises as blunt nails raked angry, bloody lines into his back. His back arched, it was Sylvain’s turn to refuse to look. He kept his face buried in Felix’s shoulder even as he felt between them, grasping the omega’s cock and stroking in time with his thrusts.

The pressure in his gut reached a peak. The alpha didn’t even pause, slamming his hips forward hard. Despite the resistance, he pressed forward harder,  _ harder-- _ until all at once his knot slipped inside. Felix let out a broken cry that he found himself enjoying far too much as the omega’s walls convulsed around him, squeezing him desperately. Sylvain bit down hard on his shoulder as he saw white, tasting blood as his canines broke the skin, desperately wishing he were only a few inches higher.

He kept thrusting his hips as he came, jerking against Felix’s body. His knot tied them together, gave his release nowhere to go but  _ in _ . As euphoric and relieving as it was, as much as the alpha part of him swelled with pride at having bred an accepting Omega, the feeling of disgust with himself was stronger. This wasn’t how it should have been. He was supposed to have swept Felix off his feet. It was supposed to be sweet and emotional and he was supposed to know how he felt—how he really felt. He felt his eyes burning hot, and pressed his face into the blankets to hide it, pretending that he was only breathing hard because of the effort he had exerted. 

It took an embarrassing amount of time for him to notice the bitter scent in the air, and even longer to realize that it wasn’t coming from him. He’d become so wrapped up in his own issue that he hadn’t realized... Felix probably hated this. In their moment of clarity before their hormones overtook them again, Felix was coming to with his friend having... taken advantage of him. Sylvain felt like he was going to be sick. 

“...Damn it,” Felix muttered. Sylvain tried to pretend that he didn’t hear the choked, clipped way he said it. His legs dropped from where he had held to him. Sylvain missed the warmth. 

“I’m sorry,” Sylvain mumbles back, not bringing his head up. He swallowed past the lump trying to choke in his throat. 

“Get off me.” He felt Felix shove at him, and the bitterness in the air grew stronger. His gut wrenched. There was nothing he could do, he was still tied to him. Despite his distress, it wasn’t going anywhere. 

Again he swallowed, and choked out, “I can’t.”

Felix stopped his squirming. He took a few breaths before he spoke again. Just a whisper. “I hate you.” 

Guilt washed over him again, blanketing him. Smothering him.  _ So do I _ . “I know.”

“Idiot...” A harsh scoff left the man below him, but it was immediately followed by a choked hiccup. It made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Oh, Goddess, was he crying? Of course he was, even Felix wouldn’t be immune to being basically  _ assaulted _ — 

“You can’t even pretend you don’t hate this long enough for your stupid dick to get soft.”

—Wait,  _ what? _

Sylvain lifted his head. He stared down at Felix, who had turned his head to glare at the desk across the room. From here he could see the dampness that glistened in his eyes. No amount of pretending it hadn’t happened would hide it. Shifting his weight to one arm, he brought the other hand to his face. 

Felix smacked him away. Hard. Yet despite the smarting, he brought it back. He could see him clench his jaw. “Don’t touch me,” he growled through gritted teeth. For once, he ignored him. Maybe it was because he didn’t actually move to strike him again. 

Gentle pressure was all it took to get Felix to look at him again. There were so many things in his eyes. Hurt. Anger. Confusion. Their gazes connected for only a moment before Felix’s darted away again, avoiding him. Avoiding the raw emotion that came with looking at Sylvain in the moment. “Why would you think I would hate this?”

Felix scoffed again, jerking his head away from his touch. “You’re right. My mistake. You only think with your dick.” Now he was looking at the wall instead. His words were like knives, but Sylvain had known him long enough to see beyond them. He was hurting, and lashing out. “Felix...” Sylvain brought both hands to the younger man’s face, turning him to face him again. This time, he resisted.

But he was patient, rubbing his thumbs in gentle swipes against his cheeks. 

Eventually, he allowed himself to be turned. 

“I’ve wanted you since before we presented.” Now it was Sylvain’s turn to turn away from him, brows furrowing together. After a beat, he added in an undertone, “I didn’t want it like this.” A bitter smile tugged at his lips, and he sighed. “I didn’t want you to find out while you were in heat, or while I was in rut. I didn’t want our first time together to be... when we didn’t have control.” A soft laugh, and he let his head rest down beside Felix’s, face buried in the blankets. “Even though I don’t think you would be interested, I was still going to bring it up with you... after the war.” 

There was a bitterness in his chest. He could infer so many things from Felix’s reaction, their mutual misunderstanding. It could only be that he thought him disinterested because he wasn’t a woman, or maybe because it was  _ Felix _ . Felix himself still wasn’t looking at him, and Sylvain still felt guilty. The only permission he’d gotten was a lack of refusal. 

Felix said nor did anything as Sylvain propped himself above him. The redhead closed his eyes, breathing a sigh. Well, at least he’d helped with the worst of his heat. It wasn’t over, not for either of them, but if he got out now he could put that barrier between them again. And this time, he wouldn’t be the one to look after him anymore. If Ingrid even let him leave his own room until it was over. “I’m sorry,” he told him gently, shifting his weight a little and feeling his deflated knot slip free. “I’ll make sure that Ingrid brings in some herbs for you. Probably don’t want that to... take.”

But before he could move or even lift his weight properly, arms encircled his torso and held him still. “Stop squirming.”

And he did. His arms were bent a little awkwardly, and he was going to quickly get an ache in his back, but he stopped moving. A beat or two passed as he hovered, uncertain. “Can I… at least move onto my side?” he asked, practically a whisper--suddenly afraid that he might overstep a line that Felix had set.

Silence followed, and he was about to resign himself to this position.

“...Yes.”

Little by little, Sylvain managed to settle on his side, barely separating more than he absolutely had to. Felix didn’t let him go. The room was warm enough not to need a blanket, but he still fumbled for one anyway, bringing it up to cover them both. Felix would appreciate it, he reasoned, even if there was no chance anyone could come bursting through the door and catch them like this. Sylvain let their legs touch.

Felix said nothing else, just pressed his face into Sylvain’s chest. 

Maybe he didn’t have to. 


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leaning as Felix turned his reddened face away, he whispered in his ear, lips brushing as he tenderly swiped his messy hair out of the way, “Will you let me make love to you, Felix?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a lot more difficult to write ambiguous genitalia than I thought it would be.  
> I see a lot of variance between what people think of for Omegas so I tried to leave it up to your imagination what sort of business he's got going on down there.  
> -Insert shrug emoji-

For once, there was absolute silence. 

Well, that wasn’t entirely a lie. Years ago, there had been moments like these. Sitting in each other’s company, neither speaking a word. Just existing in the same space and taking quiet comfort in the familiar presence. As uncertain as he was where things may go, he knew he had this time. 

A hundred thousand questions cycled through his mind, burning and itching. But he didn’t dare speak—not yet. 

Especially when he heard Felix’s breath fall even and steady, and that tension in him slip away. 

Even after what he’d done, his own feelings still conflicted, Felix trusted him enough to sleep. It was possible... that he hadn’t been the only one who had been wanting. 

Brown eyes lowered, settling on the crown of the man still tucked to his chest. Sylvain... he may have pretended he was stupid, and he my have tried to act like he didn’t understand... but he wasn’t as dense as he wanted everyone to think. At least, not if he put his mind to something. And now, the gears in his head were turning. Felix was hardly expressive in a way that most others bothered to learn. He was like a book of old knowledge—everyone wanted to know what it said, but once they tried to read it they found the language too difficult to understand. And it suited the other just fine to put up his walls and keep everyone out.

Sylvain focused on the wall beside the bed, tracing lines with his eyes as he continued to think. The silence reigned, interrupted only by occasional rumbling as a storm rolled through in the background. 

He must have fallen asleep at some point, because the next he knew the room was much darker, and there was no more rumbling in the distance. Felix was still curled into his chest, but his breathing no longer steady and even with sleep. Very gently, Sylvain lifted his hand and settled it against the younger’s crown, curling his fingers and slowly dragging them through the messy black locks. He felt Felix tense at first, and then slowly relax into his touch as he continued to gently stroke his hair. His scent had started to kick up again, so it couldn’t have been too long that they’d been resting. Soon they would probably lose out to their instincts again, now that they had had a taste. He didn’t want it to be like that again, just _taking..._

Sylvain exhaled a deep breath. 

“You’re still here,” Felix murmured. 

He quirked an eyebrow. “Yeah.” Pause. “Did you still want me to go?”

Silence. 

“...No.”

A small smile tugged at his lips, he bowed his head, nuzzling into Felix’s hair. A steady, deep breath as he closed his eyes a moment. This was... not something he thought he’d ever get to do. There’d always been a hope, but he figured that Felix would never allow it—let alone be interested. Frankly, he wasn’t even sure he was at the moment or if he was just... if this had more to do with his heat and possible humiliation than anything. 

“I was serious about wanting to try and court you after the war,” he murmured suddenly, lips still pressed to his crown. “I...” 

Sylvain hesitated. 

“I always sort of thought that I would end up being married off to some woman my father picked out for me. I pretended it didn’t bother me that you might end up in the same situation with some alpha, someone who would probably only see you as an Omega.” A thing only good for breeding, only useful during heat for getting knocked up and popping out heirs. “Then this stupid war started and I realized... I don’t care what anyone else wanted for me.” Sylvain slowly drew back from Felix, and he gently touched the side of his face. 

He was patient, waiting, until the other allowed him to gently coax him to look up. Their eyes met, and he felt his heart skip a few beats in his chest, butterflies fluttering wildly. It was ridiculous, how Felix could make him feel. He didn’t think he could get enough of it. “I wanted _you_.” Their gazes lingered, the other’s wide and his own relaxed—and then Felix’s eyes darted away from his, his face colouring pink. 

He didn’t restrict him when he pulled his face out of his hold, muttering something under his breath and rolling onto his opposite side so Sylvain couldn’t see his face anymore. He didn’t move away, though, so he wasn’t upset—just embarrassed by Sylvain’s honesty. The redhead chuckled softly, sliding his arm around him and pulling his form flush to his own. 

“I wasn’t lying about having been _planning_ , either.” He buried his face in Felix’s bare neck, feeling him shudder. His scent was growing stronger still, and Sylvain could feel the warmth starting to radiate from him. It was already starting to stir that primal instinct again. “I wanted everything to be perfect. Especially our first time together.” A soft kiss against his shoulder, another closer to his neck. “I didn’t want it to be while you were in heat... It would have been between them, when it was _you_ who wanted me and not your body.” He brushed aside his long hair, allowing him to continue leaving a trail of feather-soft kisses near the back of his neck toward his ear. “And you’d remember _everything_. We’d have a nice dinner. Your favourite. Or maybe just tea, casual and warm to wind down for the day.”

Sylvain lifted himself up onto his elbows, leaning over Felix. Gingerly, he touched his chin and slowly guided him to face him again, and the younger would allow himself to be turned. He leaned in, and heard Felix’s breath hitch in his throat. “I would kiss you like I’d have done a thousand times by then, and want to do a hundred thousand more. I’d never get tired of it.” There wasn’t any hesitation from him, but he waited a moment to see if Felix would try to lean away from him—instead, he was only met by a distinct feeling of... anticipation as those red-brown eyes focused on him. Not daring, but waiting. Hoping? 

“Can I?” He whispered. Wanting— _needing_ permission. 

Felix responded immediately, his voice an equal whisper. Had he not been waiting, listening for it—he would have missed it. “Yes.” 

He closed the distance, small as it was, and his eyes. 

Felix’s lips were soft and warm against his own. Hesitant, cautious. Nervous. Curious. He rested his palm against his jaw, leaning his head and pulling back just a hair. His heart was thudding hard in his chest, beating against his ribcage. He’d just kissed Felix. _Felix_. It was... absolutely everything he could have dreamed and so much more. “Again?” he asked, knowing he was _pleading_ more than anything. 

Felix’s eyes darted away. Sylvain began to pull back, only to pause when a gentle hand settled on his own still touching his cheek. Felix still wasn’t looking at him, but his other hand found its way into Sylvain’s hair, pulling him down again. He allowed it eagerly, tilting his head to allow their lips to meet closer than before. Felix was returning it in earnest now—or as much as he could expect from him at least. More, even. His opposite hand joined Felix’s on his other cheek, cradling his face as they kissed. At some point, Felix rolled to his back and Sylvain fell into place above him, supporting his weight to keep from resting it all on top of him. 

Breaking away again as Felix seemed to struggle figuring out how to breathe and maintain the contact, Sylvain pressed their foreheads together. “Felix...” It fell from his lips like a prayer. Again he took his mouth for his own, breaking before it would linger too long and sealing down again, and Felix, though inexperienced, had always been a quick learner and fiercely dedicated to mastering everything he put his mind to. Even as that crisp forest scent began to permeate the air between them, it seemed to give him something to focus on. Sylvain nipped at his lips, slid his tongue between them they parted, claimed his partner’s mouth for his own—and soon found the hand in his hair tightening, then his own mouth taken by Felix himself. A soft, encouraging groan left him, and his palms smoothed down the other’s neck. 

Felix _whined_ when he grazed over his scent glands, a soft sound from the back of his throat. Sylvain shuddered as the kiss was broken by the other’s embarrassment, and buried his face into his neck just below his ear. “Ah... already getting sore?” He trailed his way down with soft kisses, letting his hands fall away as he replaced them with his lips. Felix jolted as he touched them to that spot on his neck, and trembled as Sylvain dragged the flat of his tongue against his skin. The hand in his hair tightened but didn’t try pulling him away, and after a pause he continued to gently lap at the gland hidden beneath his skin. He was covering him with his own scent at the source, knowledge that he was _letting_ him— _wanting_ him to, even—only encouraging blood to seep southward. 

He wanted to bite down, to sink his teeth in and make him _his_ —but he wouldn’t. Instead, he withdrew the intimate contact and placed a gentle kiss to his damp skin instead. 

A subtle inhale followed. Felix’s pine scent was mixed pleasantly with his own, earthy and comfortable. He exhaled softly, another kiss meeting the first. “Felix... can I do more?” Sylvain pulled back again, looking down at him. Red had pooled in those pale cheeks, though the almost dreamy look on his face was quickly replaced by a scowl as he turned his face away. 

“You’ve already done everything,” he muttered, but visibly winced after speaking, as if realizing the harshness of his own words. 

Sylvain frowned to himself, beginning to draw back, “I deserve that,” he conceded, only to have that hand in his hair move to his arm, partner joining on the other side. 

“...Wait.” 

He did. 

“...”

Sylvain looked down at Felix. Felix found the wall very interesting. 

“...You didn’t finish what you were saying before.”

A smile pulled at the corners of his lips. “I didn’t,” he agreed. His hands planted themselves against the bed on either side of Felix’s torso. “Where did I leave off, again?” 

It took a moment or two for him to slowly turn his head, but eventually Felix understood and turned to meet him, beginning their kiss anew. Soft, lingering at first, gentle and full of emotion. Then gradually deepening, intensifying, until both were breaking away, breathing heavier, lips slick with shared enthusiasm. Felix had his hands in Sylvain’s hair again, and was so reluctant to let him go. He didn’t even bother to conceal the smile on his face as he gazed down at Felix, lingering on his lips which had become a bit swollen already. “A thousand times and a hundred thousand more,” he repeated in a whisper, like a promise he was making to him. Another touch, this time so chaste, and he broke away once more. “But I wouldn’t want to just kiss your lips,” he continued finally, his voice soft and breathy and he couldn’t help his grin as Felix seemed so enraptured, eyes focused but pupils blown wide, “I’d want to show you how much every part of you means to me.” 

Sylvain pressed a kiss to each of Felix’s cheeks, then his chin, and finally to his neck again, trailing a steady line down along his throat. Feather-light, barely touching, each barely a wisp before he moved to the next.

The throat beneath his lips bobbed as Felix swallowed, and Sylvain let himself linger slightly longer here and there. Not too fast, not too slow, yet feeling the anticipation in the body below him for the next touch. Honestly, he was absolutely _giddy_. Felix wasn’t one much for words, but his body was so honest. Though as much as it was clear he wanted the contact, Sylvain still wanted that assurance. _Lack of_ _objection_ wasn’t exactly _consent_ , and just because he clearly wanted it physically didn’t mean he was wholly interested. “I’d want to touch you everywhere, worship you as much with my hands as my lips. And… maybe... you’d let me...” His hands planted themselves on Felix’s sides, just atop his ribs, unmoving, and he felt Felix tremble beneath him, the not-so-subtle interest of his slick in the air. 

Kissing along the place where his neck and collar met, Sylvain kept himself occupied with little nips and flicks of his tongue, each earning him a soft huff of breath or even, when he found a particularly sensitive spot, a soft moan. He’d linger at those the longest, marking the skin with pink and purple, small bruises from the attention that would be hidden under his shirt come the time. He wanted them elsewhere. Everywhere. But he wouldn’t push his luck. 

Finally, Felix broke down. “Sylvain,” he hissed, “ _please_.”

Lifting his head, feeling a steady, insistent pressure from the others hands trying to push him back down, he gave a playfully puzzled look. “Please?”

“...Touch me.”

Sylvain chuckled softly, and finally let his hands smooth down his sides to his hips and back up, fingers spreading and fanning over his chest. Scars and marks raised up beneath his fingers, but he didn’t so much as hesitate at any. Felix was an absolute work of art, drop dead _gorgeous_ —every little “flaw” included. Finally conceding to the pressure to his head, he sank back down to touch his lips to Felix’s collarbone. Lower still to his chest followed, and he ran his tongue over the bud of his nipple. 

Felix’s sharp inhale was enough of a response to get him to do it again. Flattening his tongue to his skin, he swiped it over his nipple a second time, then a third, lifting to flick the tip of his tongue against the little peak reacting to the attention. He puffed a soft breath out over the damp spot he had created, then caught the more pronounced bud between his teeth. Rolling and tugging with his teeth, one hand began to mirror on the opposite side, and soon he could hear Felix’s half-stifled sounds more clearly. A low hum against him, he sealed his mouth to his breast and suckled gently—and was wildly surprised when he earned a sharp “Aah—!” and Felix arched up underneath him. 

Sylvain couldn’t help the soft chuckle, or the way he continued to suckle and pull at his nipple until Felix was yanking at his hair and hissing quietly—when he pulled back, his skin was flushed an angry red. He’d definitely be sore there for a while. “Sorry,” he apologized as he gently placed a kiss just above that spot, “I got carried away.” He glanced up. Felix was frowning down at him, but partnered with the blush on his cheeks and the insistent nudge of his hips into his side, Sylvain got the distinct impression he wasn’t too upset. 

He gave a wider grin which earned him another shove, this one more intending to punish him for what was likely the idea that he was thinking obscene things. It caused him to laugh, and instead of being put off he simply sank himself lower on his body, shuffling further down the mattress. His hands fit underneath Felix’s strong thighs, hoisting them up and apart in one easy movement. Felix himself yelped in surprise, scrambling to grab onto something as his body was repositioned. Sylvain however was relentless, yanking him up and folding him so his legs were spread wide open and he was given a full view of his most intimate parts. 

Flushed straight down to his shoulders, Felix stared back at Sylvain as he gazed up at his face. His eyes were starting to glaze over—it wouldn’t be long until he’d been lost to his heat again. 

Sylvain made an absolute point at staring straight at Felix as he lowered his head and swiped his tongue in a slow line from his entrance to his cock, withdrawing only to swallow down the slick he’d gathered. It was entirely, _absolutely_ worth the look on the younger’s face, torn between _mortification_ and _hunger_ at such a lewd display. “I hope you don’t mind if I help myself,” he purred, “It’d be rude for a starving man to resist a feast, you know.” No complaints came from him, but he didn’t linger more than a beat before swiping his tongue over him again, this time pressing more insistently to delve _inside_ just a bit. He could taste a bit of himself on his tongue as he swallowed down more slick, and it only made his cock twitch with intense interest. His alpha instincts were going wild now—he could smell and taste himself on the most intimate part of the Omega he desired. 

He wanted to plunge himself in and breed him again. 

Instead, he focused with his mouth. 

Holding Felix steady with his hands on his hips, he flicked his tongue over his entrance again, dipping in only a little and then slipping out, teasing. Then he moved up and away, taking his cock between his lips, taking the whole of him and pressing, swirling his tongue around the most sensitive parts. To his surprise, Felix’s hands in his hair pulled hard, and he relented the attention, slipping free of his cock and looking up uncertainly. 

Felix was breathing hard, eyes flicking between Sylvain and the wall. “...Your tongue,” he mumbled after apparently mustering the words. Realizing he wasn’t in trouble for overstepping a boundary, Sylvain “ _hmm?’d_ ” softly in question as he planted a few particularly wet kisses against his thigh. His lips were soaked with slick from him already, but he didn’t mind. 

“... _side_.” 

Sylvain bit down on the supple skin beneath his lips, earning a jolt from Felix as he did. For good measure, he sucked hard, hearing him hiss as he left a purple bruise on his skin. “What was that?” He queried, dragging his tongue against the bruise he’d just left.

“... _Inside_ ,” Felix managed again. Sylvain felt his fingers tighten in his hair. 

“Inside...?” He parroted, practically feeling the other’s frustration now. Slowly, he brought his fingers up, trailing along his skin. “Inside...” was repeated, as if pondering the meaning of the word. Sylvain continued to kiss along Felix’s thigh, first one, and then the other, as his fingertips began to tease closer to his entrance. Then, he slowly began to rub against him, fingers slipping wetly over him but not quite pushing in. Felix groaned, pushing his hips up toward Sylvain, insistently urging especially whenever his fingers were _just_ _there_. The smell of his slick was intense, practically pouring out of him, and every time Sylvain brushed his fingers against his entrance his muscles twitched in desperation. As if trying to coax him in. He was aching to be penetrated, to have _anything_ inside him.

“ _Sylvain_ ,” Felix whined, pushing up against him again. The redhead held him steady with one strong arm. Unable to push his body into place, Felix settled for yanking his hair and trying to shove his head further down. “ _Please_.” 

Sylvain couldn’t help the dark chuckle that left him, lathing his tongue against the newest bruise on his thigh. “Please...?” Fingers probed at his entrance, the soft sound as they slid against the slick there so deliciously obscene he knew Felix would be mortified if he were fully in his right mind. No, that was wrong—there was still clarity in that desperate look he sent him, and he couldn’t help but revel in it. Felix _wanted_ this, everything he was giving him. 

Or, as were the case, _denying_ him. 

However, Sylvain was not so _entirely_ cruel. 

The pleading was enough to get him to sink his middle digit in to the second knuckle, and he bit at the inside of his lip to keep quiet when Felix’s walls clenched around it, as if trying to pull him deeper as the man whined. “ _Shh_ ,” he soothed quietly, slowly starting to pump his one finger in and out, going slowly despite knowing Felix was already well prepared. While he was in heat he would barely need any preparation at all, even stretching, but Sylvain had already not only been _inside_ him but _knotted_ not more than a few hours ago. He wasn’t _loose_ , but he was definitely well and capable of more than one finger—and his body was demanding more than that anyway. 

But Sylvain would take his time with this. 

At least a little. 

He wanted to try and make up for... the first time. Not that it would replace it, but at least he might remember more. Assuming he didn’t already, because he was just going off of personal experience with that line of thinking. His memory of his proper ruts were always sort of just... one big haze of misery. 

...And _a lot_ of filthy thoughts, most of them of Felix. 

Soon, he added a second digit alongside his first, and Felix’s fingers twisted in his hair. He was still trying to push his head back down, but Sylvain couldn’t tell any longer where he wanted him to focus. Hooking his arm around his waist, he used his free hand to start stroking his cock in time with his thrusts. 

As tempting as it was to take him into his mouth again, he was... more interested in eating him out. Which he began to do in earnest again. Lapping at his slick-soaked fingers where they pressed into Felix, he let the other wrap his strong thighs around his head as he pressed inside. 

Hands twisted and yanked hard on his hair as he alternated thrusting his fingers and his tongue, never letting him have a full reprieve from any of the feelings. Soon, Felix was thrusting his hips, holding his head steady and grinding himself into his mouth. 

Anytime Sylvain glanced up, he could see Felix’s head thrown back, neck exposed and hair a mess, mouth open as he gasped and groaned. 

It was so obscene, _so goddess-damned beautifu_ l. 

_He wanted his mark on that pale neck_. 

Pulling his mouth back, he teased his cock with his tongue for just a moment as he twisted his wrist. The position was uncomfortable but wholly worth it when he crooked his fingers and Felix choked, eyes going wide. “There?” He breathed against his sopping wet skin, and licked at the place where his fingers disappeared inside him again, delving between them as he started to curl and flex his digits against his internal walls. 

Hands wrenched and pulled at his hair as hips erratically thrust into him, and he didn’t mind at all that he could no longer breathe as he renewed his attention in earnest. Swallowing down his slick and fucking him with his tongue and fingers as his free hand kept stroking his cock, listening to Felix making the most beautiful noises this far... It was worth it. 

His cock ached to be touched and he unconsciously rocked his hips against the mattress, seeking friction. 

Felix didn’t last long once he found that spot inside him. His walls clenched and fluttered as if trying to force him out, but Sylvain resisted with diligence, even as the hips bucking into his mouth lost any sort of rhythm. 

He didn’t scream when he came, but instead made a quiet, half-choked sort of cry, like he didn’t quite know how to react to such an intense sensation. 

Sylvain continued to stroke him through it, swallowing down the slick gushing from his entrance as a result of his orgasm. 

As the convulsing of his walls slowed and he began to slump boneless, legs falling lax on either shoulder, Sylvain slowly withdrew his fingers and shifted his hold to his legs instead. Gently lowering him back to the sheets, he nuzzled into his thigh before settling both on either side of his own hips. Felix was breathing hard, unfocused eyes barely open as he stared up at the ceiling. 

When Sylvain settled back on his haunches, he caught him looking down at him as he slowly licked his fingers clean. 

A soft huff from the omega as he turned a shade darker. “...Filthy.”

Sylvain laughed, now taking his time in dragging his tongue against the pad of his thumb and then licking his lips. “Maybe you shouldn’t taste so good, then.” A bit of a white lie—it wasn’t _bad_ , but the musky, slightly bitter taste wasn’t as pleasing as the pine scent of his natural aroma. He sure as hell wouldn’t avoid doing this again for him. As often as he liked, even. In fact, Sylvain would be _more_ than happy to pleasure Felix _however_ he wanted, _as much_ as he wanted. 

Leaning forward, he placed a few wandering kisses over his chest, still rising and falling at a quick pace. 

He startled at the sudden contact to his erection, hips jolting forward into the warmth of Felix’s hand. He hadn’t even noticed him moving. “...Ah?” A soft breath, and he trembled with the effort of stilling himself. “Felix, _shit_ ... You gotta warn me before you just...” _Holy hell, he was touching him_. It was more like… exploring, just a gentle, curious hand cupping the length of him. But he didn’t mind at all. Resting his brow to his chest, he bit hard on his bottom lip. It was only right to let him explore on his own, but he didn’t honestly think he’d be so forward. 

Slender, calloused fingers curled around his length and he let out a soft hiss, unable to restrain himself from pushing forward. Felix didn’t retreat, and Sylvain kissed his way up his chest to his neck. “Shit, Fe,” he rumbled, lowering to his elbows but still propping up over him. He began leaving open-mouthed kisses to his skin, and the man beneath him arched his neck in invitation to the attention. A much more gentle hand curled into his hair, threading through almost affectionately. Sylvain stopped just shy of the scent glands on his neck, burying his nose there instead and breathing hard against his skin. 

He wanted to bite him, but he still had the control not to.

“Sylvain.” Felix breathed his name into his ear, and the redhead shuddered again. He started to move his hand, running from base to tip and back. Sylvain lost the battle with his instincts, starting to thrust into the warmth. He was aching for touch, and Felix was finally giving it to him.

When he withdrew the contact for a moment, Sylvain huffed against his skin. He was torn between being upset that he had stopped and happy that he had.

Felix shifted, shuddering below him. 

When his grip returned, his hand was damp, and moving much more easily now. 

“F...fnn... did you just...?” Was he using his own slick to jerk him off? Sylvain’s cock throbbed hard at the thought, and he felt the burning of his rut finally kicking into full again. He breathed in deeply, and rumbled out a low, possessive growl that made Felix shudder instinctively beneath him. 

Or maybe he genuinely enjoyed it. 

Either way, his body responded in kind, and Sylvain was rewarded with a flood of the omega’s scent. He clenched his jaw, seething out as his hands grasped fistfuls of the sheets beneath them. “ _Felix_ ,” he growled out against his neck as he began to lap at the scent glands there. Softening the skin, covering him with his scent. _He wanted to bite._ Felix was stretching his neck for him, inviting him. 

Turning away with a jerk, he instead sank his sharp canines into the plush pillow bedside Felix’s head. 

Biting down hard enough to feel the fabric give way just under the force of it, he thrust himself forward into Felix’s palm, muffling his groaning into the feathered down and fabric. It wasn’t enough. Everything in the room smelled like Felix. Pulling back from the pillow, he pressed his face into the wet spot he had created, giving another deep groan and arching his back. The pressure in his gut was building rapidly, knot swelling at the base of his cock. 

Reaching between them, he made a move to touch Felix, only to have his hand pushed away. 

“Just you,” was whispered into his ear, and Sylvain muffled another groan into the mangled pillow. He felt Felix swipe his tongue over his neck and immediately arched for him. The sounds he made as he felt the Omega scraping his own canines against his skin would probably have embarrassed him if he had been prideful enough. His hand snapped down to grasp Felix’s. The sudden action clearly startled him, and he began to pull back, perhaps thinking he had done something wrong—but Sylvain merely pushed his hand down to the base of his cock where his knot swelled, and pressed Felix’s hand around him. He squeezed both his hand and himself in a voiceless attempt to show what he needed. “ _Hard_ ,” he seethed, and allowed himself to move away again as Felix took hold of him in understanding. 

Grasping at fistfuls of the sheets again, he rocked his hips strongly against Felix’s grip, biting down on the down pillow and tasting feathers in his mouth. Felix was going to be pissed about him ruining one of his pillows, but that was a problem for future Sylvain. Present Sylvain was grappling with an impending orgasm as the person he desired more than anyone else squeezed at his knot and mouthed at his scent glands, swollen and sensitive before their time in response to Felix’s heat. 

And then, sudden euphoric pain blossomed from his neck. 

Sylvian didn’t have time to process what had happened before the feeling threw him over the edge. He was distantly aware of the sound of fabric ripping, more feathers in his mouth as he bit down hard, his own instinct demanding him to reciprocate. More, he was aware of the pleasure curling from his fingers to his toes and spilling out from him in waves. The smell of Felix all around him, the fire sparking through him where their bodies touched. 

He kept rocking his hips even as he tapered down from his high, though unlike before he couldn’t feel himself still spilling out. Felix had removed his hand; his body wasn’t tricked into thinking he was buried inside him, breeding him. 

Instead, he could feel his hands on him… elsewhere on him. One still in his hair, one splayed on his back. A warm mouth on his neck, something warmer and wet stroking against his skin. It ached, but each time he touched it it sent a pleasurable sensation sparking like lightning through his skin, down his spine. There was something new in the air, something earthy, mixing pleasantly with the crisp pine that was Felix. It thrummed somewhere in his core as he spat feathers to one side, his brain moving one step an hour. Familiar, but he knew it didn’t belong to any of the others in the group. No one would have _dared_ come in yet, not unless they had some sort of wish to be skewered by both a lance and a sword. And the scent-blocking candles would have covered anyone casually passing by. 

Sluggishly propping himself up over Felix, he gave a crooked grin as the brunette reached up to pull away one of the feathers still sticking to his mouth. His lips were red with blood, and now Sylvain could smell it in the air. Sharp, metallic. Felix pulled gently at his hair, and Sylvain allowed him to turn his head. He lowered back down to keep licking at the sore spot on his neck. Tending to the wound he’d left. It was an incredibly personal, intimate gesture. 

It made Sylvain’s heart flutter in his chest. 

_Ah._

That scent was _his_. He didn’t usually notice it. 

And that was _his_ blood. He was bleeding. 

Felix had bitten down and broken the skin by the glands on his neck. 

... _Felix had marked him_. 

Realization struck like a punch to the gut. 

Suddenly he was alert and rigid atop Felix, frozen with eyes wide like a child that had been caught with their hand in the sweets. 

“Felix...?”

“Stop talking,” he grunted from his place at Sylvain’s neck, effectively causing the redhead to snap his mouth closed. 

Sylvain was caught somewhere between mortified and euphoric. _He’d been marked by Felix_ , he was wanted by him. Felix wanted him to be seen as _his_ alpha. But did he do it because he was there, or because he really wanted it? Did he lose control of himself? Would he look back on this with a clear head later and regret it? Sure, he could _technically_ re-bond to someone else, but it was apparently traumatic for everyone. He’d only ever heard... horror stories. Sylvain had never bitten nor allowed anyone to mark him for that very reason. Not that there’d been anyone else he’d wanted but he knew there were a lot who had tried to get him.

“ _Flames_ , Sylvain,” came Felix’s voice again, and he jumped as if having forgotten he was there. “Stop _thinking_.” Felix’s hands touched his cheeks, so gentle he could have cried. “I know what I’m doing.” 

Only then did he realize that his distress had started to cloud the air with an unpleasant, bitter odor—like Felix himself had done earlier. 

He tried to force a smile, but one wouldn’t come. 

Looking back into those red-brown eyes, he found himself suddenly unable to lie. 

For a few beats, they merely gazed at one another. No words exchanged, Sylvain merely taking comfort in Felix’s touch, his presence. Felix must have been feeling something too, for while his expression remained impassive, his eyes were intense. 

His thumbs brushed his cheeks occasionally. 

At some point, Sylvain mimicked his gesture, fingers brushing his skin. 

Little by little they each closed the distance, sealing their lips together in a deep kiss. It wasn’t carnal but instead passionate, each of them pouring feelings and words in that didn’t need to be spoken aloud. Hands traveled, touched and explored. Bare skin and scars mapped, at some point Sylvain rolled to the side, bringing Felix with him with arms around his middle, letting them rest together without worry of too much weight sitting atop him. Their legs tangled, they pressed as close as they could so the edge where one end and the other began became difficult to discern. 

“Felix,” he whispered as they broke for breath, no idea how much time had passed as they lay enraptured in one another. “Can I have you?” By now, he could smell his heat again, knowing he would need reprieve—knowing they’d both need it—but wanted to keep things as they were. Not frenzied lust, lost to everything but the act. 

Leaning as Felix turned his reddened face away, he whispered in his ear, lips brushing as he tenderly swiped his messy hair out of the way, “Will you let me make love to you, Felix?” 

Partially it was to tease him, but more he wanted to hear him say it. And he waited patiently, watching as colour pooled in his already-flushed cheeks. He seemed to be warring within himself, but he still had yet to break the contact between their bodies. He wasn’t uncomfortable—just embarrassed. 

Felix took a deep breath, steeling himself. Sylvain expected some sort of “biting” retort. 

Instead, the younger leaned into him more, tucking his head up beneath his chin. “... _Yes_.”

Sylvain released the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. 

He smoothed his hand down Felix’s back, coming around to gently settle on his hip. Rubbing small circles into the dip just past his hip bone, a small, honest smile playing onto his lips. “Might be better to do it from behind, so we could lie down closer once I’m knotted, but... I want to see your face.” Leaning, he closed the distance again, eyes lidding partway as he relished in the touch of his lips to Felix’s. He was completely right. He’d never get tired of it. Never ever. 

Drawing away with some reluctance, he let a few more pecks wander Felix’s face and smiled to himself at the look of contentment he wore. “ _Beautiful_ ,” he whispered, one hand coming up to brush against his cheek and swipe some loose hair away. 

He watched Felix’s brows furrow as he shifted, pulling the warmth of himself from their closeness. He was loath to do so, but it was a necessary evil for what he intended. 

Sitting upright, he gently guided Felix up as well, pulling him to sit astride his lap. Legs spread, one on either side of his body, he settled his arms around Felix’s bare middle and pulled him flush. Chest to chest, hands on the backs of his thighs, Felix lifting himself up on his knees a bit as Sylvain’s hands wandered further up his legs to smooth over the curve of his backside. The redhead placed a kiss just to the side of his breast, beside the nipple he had worried raw and sore earlier. A few more found their way wandering against his skin. Although he didn’t say a word, the uncertainty of their position was palpable as he felt Felix’s eyes on him. “I’ll help,” he whispered into his skin, humming softly as Felix began to stroke his fingers through his hair. 

For a moment he closed his eyes, relaxing into the touch against his scalp, letting his hands continue to wander and trace over the body bared in his lap. He’d make a map of him in his mind, in time. Every curve, every line. Every scar and mark, he’d commit them all to memory—and then he’d do it again, and again, until he knew Felix’s body better than his own and still he knew he’d be just as enchanted. 

Looking up at Felix as he tugged his hair gently, he tilted his chin to meet the touch of his lips. His own were sore and swollen from how many times they’d met, and he knew Felix’s were worse, but he didn’t care. 

Apparently neither did Felix, because soon their gentle, affectionate contact deepened. Felix was the one to do it for once, as if chasing something that Sylvain couldn’t quite understand. It didn’t seem quite as if their reprieve had ended fully yet—perhaps it had to do with having marked him? Maybe he was aware of something that he wasn’t.

Regardless, Sylvain didn’t resist the attention, instead reveling in it as his stoic friend seemed to let go. 

Hands smoothed over his skin, down his shoulders and his chest. Although Sylvain was never ashamed of letting out his own sounds, he was rather surprised at how quickly Felix was able to pinpoint each spot on his body that elicited the most sensation for him. It wasn’t until the younger broke from their kiss to bring his mouth to his neck—to the still-tender bite mark—that Sylvain’s hands grasped at his hips and began to rock into him. Just the light touch of his lips to that mark sent sparks rippling through his body again, pooling in his groin. He shuddered, a groan milked pulled from his lips as Felix gently soothed the spot with his tongue, and he pulled him strongly down against his lap, grinding up. His cock had already been swollen with mild interest, so the friction just helped to harden it. 

Either catching on or needing some friction of his own, Felix began to roll his hips as well. 

Sylvian snaked his hand down and rubbed two fingers against Felix, pushing and nudging against him as fresh slick began to seep from him. He was still in heat so he was always ready, but as he got more aroused it would flow forth more copiously—and judging by it now he was _well_ interested. A soft chuckle and he plunged his fingers inside, causing Felix to let out a choked noise of surprise and pleasure at being filled again so suddenly. “Sorry,” he apologized, feeling rather than seeing the half-hearted glare shot his way. “I’ll warn you next time.” He exhaled, bringing his mouth to rest just under his ear as he dropped his voice. “You’re so wet for me, Felix...” He shuddered beneath Felix, his cock throbbing as he continued to roll his hips. It brushed against his knuckles with each movement as he began to thrust his fingers in and out. 

To his surprise, Felix was the one to reach down and grab his wrist, gently, and pull his hand away. He did flush several extra shades of red when Sylvain brought them to his lips and dragged his tongue against them, swiping away the taste of slick on the calloused pads. As Felix lifted higher onto his knees, fishing around below him for Sylvain’s straining erection, the redhead finally understood that he wanted to move forward. Gentle hands guided him to the proper height, and he rested one hand on Felix’s hip as the other lined the tip of his cock up with his waiting entrance. “Go slow,” he warned, though doubted it was needed.

Felix rested one hand on Sylvain’s shoulder and the other joined him on his length. 

Between the grip on his hip and the cautious sinking of his weight, they guided Sylvain inside him for the second time. 

Gnawing his lip, Sylvain resisted the desire to rest his head against Felix’s shoulder in favour of watching his face. The feeling was so much more intense now that he wasn’t lost to the haze of a rut. He could feel the heat of his body as he pressed against him, the slick tightness as his tip sank in, followed by each glorious inch. His eyes were barely open but he forced himself to watch, and Felix’s face slowly transitioned from slightly pinched, furrowed brows of focus to open-mouthed, head back and gasping, gripping Sylvain’s shoulders as if to ground himself. It must have been an intense feeling to garner such a reaction. Leaning, he pressed open-mouthed kisses to the plane of his bared neck, suckling at his skin, salty with sweat. 

He paused at the glands on his neck, that feeling welling in him again. 

_He wanted to bite him._

His lips hovered over the scent glands, and a sense of anticipation settled between them. Felix had stilled with their bodies as flush as the position allowed. 

Sylvain skirted away. 

Felix exhaled into his hair. 

He couldn’t tell whether it was a sigh or not. Instead of focusing on it, he grasped Felix’s hips, rubbing his thumbs against his hip bones as he kissed his shoulders. “Are you ready?” He asked as lips traced his pronounced collarbone. “You feel so good, Fe.” His body was fluttering and squeezing on him in response to his touches, and clenched briefly with the compliment.

He couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up from his throat. Felix mumbled something under his breath, but surprisingly didn’t chastise him. Sliding his hands to his rear, Sylvain lifted Felix’s weight up, both of them moaning softly as he slipped out, and then back in. Little movements at first, familiarizing themselves with the feelings while they had the mind to appreciate them. 

Judging by his thick scent, though, Felix was rapidly being lulled back into the blanket of his heat by their coupling.

Felix had always been a fast learner, eager to master everything he put his mind to, so it wasn’t surprising that he would soon take over the steady rise and fall of his weight on Sylvain’s lap. His arms encircled the redhead’s shoulders, while Sylvain kept his hands firm on his hips, keeping his pace steady and slow to let them last together longer. They’d probably end up doing this a lot more. No, not probably. _Definitely_ , if Sylvain had his way. But he wanted to savor this like he hadn’t had the capacity to earlier. The feel of Felix’s walls clenching on him each time he lifted up, reluctant to let him go, and then the wet heat engulfing him, welcoming him inside all over again. Lips connected in breathless intervals, mouths slanting together, alternating between fierce teeth and tongue to slow and sweet and back again.

Eventually—too soon, still—the throbbing of his cock and the maddening scent of omega heat in the air was too much. “Fe,” he whispered as he lifted his head. A smoldering kiss, and he barely parted to speak. “I need more.”

“ _Finally_.”

Sylvain gripped Felix’s hips more tightly, but stopped restricting his movement as he started rocking himself up and down faster. The sound was obscene, slickened cock sliding in and out of him, but he kept stopping as he felt the push of his budding knot. He’d been avoiding trying to force it to keep them moving at an easy pace. “So you were holding back on my account?” he teased, and jerked his hips up to meet him on a downward push. The beginnings of his knot, the swell more than enough to cause some notable resistance, popped inside all at once. Felix’s pleasured groan _cracked_ , his pace stopping abruptly. He looked mortified at the sound he’d made, but Sylvain caught his hand before he could cover his mouth. “Don’t get bashful now, Fe. I want to hear you.” Grappling onto him with one arm, Felix surrendered his other to Sylvain’s grip. Holding him steady with his other hand, he pulled back until he was able to tug himself free. Another sharp noise, something mixed with a whine that he figured wasn’t at all on purpose. It felt way better than he thought it would, pleasure surging through him each time he continued to move in short, rough thrusts, yanking his growing knot in and out. 

That feeling was surging up in his chest again, the primal, feral _need_ of rut. He fought it off, eased his thrusts despite the piteous whine that Felix let out as a result. It was getting hard to do anyway--too much longer and he’d be locking himself in. Instead, he started to urge Felix into moving on his own again, though his partner kept up with the shorter, quicker motion. His hand over Sylvain’s shoulders threaded up into his hair, loosely tangling in red locks as he began kissing along his neck again.

“ _Close_ ,” Felix whispered suddenly, surprising Sylvain, starting to drive his hips more purposefully into him. 

Sylvain hummed softly as he kissed along his neck, only to jolt as his head was yanked to the side. Felix began to kiss and bite at the mark he’d left on him earlier, and Sylvain was suddenly the one making the “embarrassing” noises again. Pain-pleasure sparked down his spine with each touch, and he found himself unable to resist craning his neck and surrendering fully to the attention. The more he touched him there, the higher the pleasure spiked.

“ _Felix_ ,” he breathed, _seethed_ , as the edges of his vision clouded and he felt his own warmth pulsing back to life in full force. Felix was unrelenting--rocking his hips, assaulting his scent glands with his mouth, pulling his hair. In no time, Sylvain was losing control. “You... _Felix_ ...” he wasn’t sure what he was trying to say. Was he asking for more? Warning him? Leaning, he pressed his face into Felix’s skin, mouthing at his skin, nosing his way toward the scent glands on his neck. Chasing the source of that powerful scent. His mind was turning back into mush. All he could smell was Felix again, all around him. He was touching him, Sylvain was _inside_ him, _breeding_ him.

A possessive growl bubbled up in his throat as his mouth closed over the swollen glands on the omega’s neck. Felix shuddered atop him, and he could practically taste that crisp pine scent on his tongue. Fingers twisted in his hair, nails of Felix’s other hand digging into his shoulder. That urge swelled. That mantra starts in his head again, his instinct urging him to sink his teeth in. Take him, claim him. Seal that bond Felix had started. _He wants it_ , his mind urged.

Sylvain started to pull back.

Felix growled in frustration, fingers yanking on red locks hard enough to smart. “ _Sylvain_.”

He had no idea whether it was because he was trying to force his knot in or because he had tried to pull away, but hearing his name had been enough to snap his control. He surged forward. His teeth sank into Felix’s skin. Blood bubbled up from the wound his teeth had created, filling his mouth. But he was hardly focused on that. Instead, his addled mind was assailed suddenly by a surge--so many things at once. His innate magic latched onto something, intertwined with it and became something new, something stronger. Pleasure engulfed him, so much more intense than he had ever experienced. Surely it was beyond just his own--it filled him, bubbling up and over and--

\--he blacked out.

When the world came to him again, he found he had rolled Felix beneath him, and locked his knot inside. The man himself had his hands tangled in his hair, head tossed back to grant him his neck in their new position. His walls were still convulsing around his knot, squeezing as they rode out their orgasm in tandem, haphazardly thrusting into each other despite the lack of ability to do more than grind their hips.

Sylvain pulled back abruptly, staring at the mark he’d left on Felix’s neck. He felt a sick feeling welling in his stomach at the dark bruising already bubbling up under his skin, the blood pooling from the puncture wounds he’d left. 

Felix, immediately aware, shoved his head back down. 

“Take care of it,” he grunted at Sylvain. “Do your job for once.”

Tentatively, he began to do as Felix had for him earlier, tending to the wound he’d created. Felix remained calm and pliant beneath him, giving a contented sigh as Sylvain’s tongue soothed over his new mark. Each brush sent a little shiver down his spine, and he realized that… it was like he was feeling a portion of what Felix was. Was that a part of the bond? He’d always heard that it was intense, but… he’d never actually looked into it. He’d never thought he’d get a chance to… have a bond with someone that mattered to him. 

“So this is how you learned all my weak spots so fast,” he teased with a laugh, propping himself up on his elbows and gazing down at him. Felix frowned in response, but met Sylvain’s gaze. His smile lingered a moment longer, and then faded to something more serious, brushing a few strands of dark hair out of the younger’s face. “You’re sure you want this?”

Felix heaved a sigh, rolling his eyes. Instead of answering, he pulled him down into a kiss. 

Sylvain couldn’t help the soft hum of laughter, leaning into him and rolling them to the side to get comfortable until they could separate. 

A little late to have second thoughts now, he supposed. Not that he did--not in the slightest.


End file.
